The next morning, Aisha walked into the office with a sense of foreboding she couldn't shake. Ever since yesterday's "test of obsession," the air between her and Raj had thickened—almost tangible, like electricity charged and ready to ignite.
Her phone buzzed before she reached her desk:
"Sit in my cabin. Immediately. —RM"
Aisha's stomach tightened. She obeyed without hesitation, her steps echoing softly in the otherwise empty hall.
When she opened the door, Raj was already standing, arms crossed, the usual calm mask hiding whatever storm churned beneath. But this time, there was something different. His eyes—dark, sharp, unwavering—followed her as she approached.
"Sit," he said curtly, gesturing toward the chair beside his desk.
Aisha hesitated, then took a seat, clutching her notebook.
"You will be working from here today," he said suddenly, pointing to the space beside him.
Her brow furrowed. "Sir, I usually—"
"Don't argue," he interrupted sharply. "I need you here. Close. Within reach. If I have a question—or if a problem arises—you will respond immediately."
Her pulse quickened. Working this close to Raj Malhotra… was more than intimidating.
"Understood," she said softly.
He gave her a fleeting, approving look, then returned his attention to the files on his desk.
The day passed in a blur of numbers, reports, and constant, oppressive proximity. Every time she reached for a paper, he subtly shifted closer; every time she spoke, his eyes found hers with a weight that made her stomach twist.
Lunch arrived unnoticed. Neither of them moved.
By mid-afternoon, Aisha realized she was hyper-aware of every movement: the brush of his sleeve as he leaned to grab a folder, the sound of his pen tapping against the desk, the way his gaze lingered on her hand as she wrote notes.
She wanted to concentrate. She wanted to focus on the work.
But she couldn't.
Because Raj Malhotra was impossible to ignore.
Finally, he looked up from the spreadsheet he had been scrutinizing.
"You handled the Hong Kong proposal exceptionally," he said softly. His voice was low—almost intimate—but still sharp enough to make her feel cornered.
"Thank you, sir," she whispered.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, watching her.
"You're learning fast," he said. "Too fast, perhaps. It's… frustrating."
Aisha frowned. "Frustrating?"
"Yes," he admitted quietly. "Because it's difficult to stay objective when someone like you draws my attention. When someone like you…" He trailed off, gaze fixed on her, intense enough to make her tremble, "…affects me in ways I cannot ignore."
Her throat went dry. She had heard the words before, but this time they were different—more vulnerable, more dangerous.
"Raj…" she began, but he held up a hand, stopping her mid-sentence.
"No interruptions," he said softly, his dark eyes boring into hers. "I need you to understand this: being close to me is… not safe. Not emotionally. But you are here anyway. And that tells me… everything I need to know."
A flash of something—possession, obsession, maybe something more—crossed his face.
Aisha's chest tightened. Her mind screamed at her to stand, to step away, to put distance between them. But her body refused to move.
He stood suddenly, walking toward her, closing the space between them in mere seconds. She felt the heat of his presence, felt it press against her skin without touching, felt the unspoken command in the air.
"You're mine, Aisha," he murmured, almost under his breath. "Even when you think you're not. Even when you don't realize it yet."
Her heart thundered in her chest. She wanted to deny it. She wanted to run.
But deep down, she already knew: she had been caught in Raj Malhotra's storm—and there was no escape.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of numbers and whispered orders. Every glance he threw her way, every subtle command, reminded her that nothing would ever be the same.
And when she finally left his cabin, her legs shaky and mind spinning, she realized one terrifying truth:
Working this close to Raj Malhotra was no longer just about the job.
It was about survival.
And about a danger she might already want.